


Take A Good Look And You’re Bound To See (That You And Me Were Meant To Be)

by TChallaGotBac



Series: I Love My Dog As Much As I Love You (But You May Fade, My Dog Will Always Come Through) [1]
Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Irondad, Peter Parker gets a dog, Spider-Man - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-07
Updated: 2019-06-14
Packaged: 2020-04-12 11:52:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19131493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TChallaGotBac/pseuds/TChallaGotBac
Summary: Peter finds a dog on patrol.





	1. Rescue

**Author's Note:**

> Some absolute fluff (literally). I really liked writing a slightly older Peter who knows what he's doing a bit more. This is one of my favorite stories I've written. Enjoy!

Peter had been out way too long.

It was a bit past his curfew, but he'd texted May that he would be late. She hadn't texted back yet, probably because it was half past eleven and she was most likely asleep. It used to be that she'd stay up until he got home, but she was working long hours so Peter insisted she sleep instead of waiting up. He'd been Spider-Man for almost three years now and she knew that he knew what he was doing. If he needed her, Karen would wake her up. 

When Tony had finally convinced them to let him pay (at least partially) for a new apartment, they'd integrated Karen into their home. Peter felt considerably safer now that the AI constantly watched over May, and Tony felt the same way now that he could check in any time he wanted. The loft they lived in now was in Forest Hills, substantially closer to Midtown High so Peter was often able to actually go home briefly before patrolling. As a result he no longer lost backpacks, much to May's relief.

(Though Peter suspected that Tony had programmed Karen to notify him when Peter embarrassed himself, because he somehow knew when Peter accidentally ran into the window after an extra exhausting patrol. The video played on repeat in the lab for a week and both Ned and MJ got ahold of it. Due to the fact that they were his best friends, they were "legally obligated" to make a Vine out of it.) 

Peter yawned. Midterms had kept him up studying last night and his brain was completely fried from the tests and presentations. Luckily the studying seemed to paid off because he got 95 percent on his Chemistry midterm.

"It's thirty minutes past your weekend curfew, Peter," Karen reminded him gently. 

"I know, I know, Karen," he sighed. "I'll head back now." 

Peter leapt off the building without hesitation, shooting a web to catch him as he free fell to the pavement. It pulled taut a few feet away from the ground, the wind whistling in his ears as he swung. As the momentum of his plunge urged him forward, he stretched his feet up above his head, streamlining his body. He released at the top of the pendulum, performing several twists and flips before diving down once more. Another web caught him and he was swinging home.

"Karen, keep an eye out for crimes on my way home."

"Of course, Peter." The AI's soft and reassuring voice reminded him of May's. Peter often thought that Tony did that on purpose. FRIDAY, Tony's personal AI, snarked and talked back to Tony, countering his own sarcastic demeanor. But Karen encouraged and boosted Peter up, keeping him safe and happy, and making him feel better. He appreciated the extra support sometimes.

Peter loved this- swinging peacefully was his happy place. The constant sounds of the city were strangely comforting, like an assurance that no matter what, life goes on. The City That Never Sleeps is Peter's home, and he loves it, is proud of it. 

A sound from a nearby alley set off his senses. His scalp tingled, telling him that There's Something There You Might Need To Take Care Of. 

Peter dropped next to the alley lightly. Whatever set off his senses wasn't putting him in danger; that's not what they were telling him. Often he'd get a signal like this and it would be a desperate homeless person scrounging for food. If that happened, he'd gently point out the nearest shelter. Sometimes they got a bit hostile and defensive, and at that point he zipped away. No reason to stick around and get stabbed with another rusty fork.

But this wasn't a homeless person. As Peter cautiously stepped into the alley way, a low whine emitted from behind the trash bin pushed up against the building. 

Peter took a deep breath and approached where the whine came from. "Here, doggy doggy," he called softly. "It's okay; I'm not going to hurt you," he crooned. He heard the dog whimper and scoot farther away from him.

"Alright then," Peter muttered. He positioned himself between the street and the dog. The smell of the trash hit his nose, though it was not very full and he assumed it had been taken out yesterday. Often his enhanced senses hindered rather than helped him, especially in the pungent trash department.

Peter pushed the bin away from the wall slowly. As it screeched across the ground, the opening on the other side became smaller, and the side towards Peter wider. The dog didn't have much of a choice where to go.

Luckily, Peter's senses forewarned him to brace for the impact of a 110-pound dog running at him him.

He was just able to contain the huge black Newfoundland, and noticed it was injured in multiple places. "Hey, hey, hey, buddy, slow down." Peter wrapped his arms around it, lifting it completely off the ground with ease. Slowly, the dog stopped struggling as it seemed to understand that Peter was here to help.

"That's is, doggy. Karen, do an assessment, please." Slowly, and gently, Peter set down the beast.

"The dog has minor injuries on her leg, and side. Neither are serious or fatal but if it goes untreated, it may get infected or get worse." Peter nodded, thanking Karen. There was no collar on the poor thing. He continued to pet it, and with every stroke, its huge body seemed to relax.

Peter paused, caressing the dog's ears. "Wait, she?"

"Yes, Peter. She is about 2 to 3 years old, 112.35 pounds, Newfoundland breed."

"Okay. Can you check for a chip, and scan all social media for anybody mentioning a lost Newfie?" He massaged her neck, her eyes closing in bliss. Karen was silent for a moment.

"No sign of a chip, Peter. And no mention of a missing dog fitting her description."

Peter sighed. "Alright. Remind me tomorrow to call local shelters and check if anyone's been looking for her."

At this point, the dog had almost completely warmed up to him. He petted the whole length of her body and fondled her ears. "I suppose you're hungry, huh, girl. You want some food? Yeah?" 

Her head cocked at his tone. He laughed. "Oh, you're a good girl, huh, yes you are. What a good girl!" She wagged her tail so hard he was glad he wasn't standing on her back end. "You kind of smell though. A lot, actually. Like trash."

He crouched so they were face to face. "You smell like garbage." Her tail whipped back and forth. "You smell bad and you are proud of it. You're a trash doggy, yes you are. Trash dog," he praised her, and she licked his face. "Oh, nasty! Your breath is worse than May's cooking." He laughed. "Don't tell her I said that."

Peter stood up and realized that they didn't have much food at home, or at least enough for a beast like the dog currently licking his belly. "Let's stop and get you something, huh, girl? Yeah?" She cocked her head the other way. Peter smiled at her before realizing his dilemma.

He was a good bit away from his and May's loft. He couldn't swing, not with the dog, and he didn't want to walk. People would talk if they saw Spider-Man running home with a dog that looked stolen, and besides, it wasn't safe on the ground. He didn't want to hail a taxi for obvious reasons. He groaned and looked at the sky, his gears working fast. "Think, Peter," he said, banging a fist on his forehead. 

"Oh!" He said, coming to a sudden realization. "Karen, text Ned and ask him if he's up, please."

"Sure thing, Peter. Message sent."

Peter wondered why it took him that long to come to the realization that Ned's apartment was across the freaking street.

Almost immediately Ned texted back. Karen read his text aloud, "yeah watching GoT what's up?" 

"Karen, call Ned please." He picked up on the first ring. 

"What's up, Peter?" Ned answered.

"Um, I need to borrow your car, man. Um, official Spider-Man business." Peter laughed.

"Yeah, okay… did you run out of web fluid? And isn't it past curfew?"

"No, plenty of fluid here… web! Plenty of web fluid. No, I kind of picked up something that I can't swing home with."

Peter heard Ned sigh on the other end. "Are you going to tell me, or are we going to keep playing twenty questions?"

"Well, ah, I found a dog…"

"Peter! Last time you found a dog its owner couldn't come get it for a full day and it peed everywhere and chewed up all May's pillows. Do you really think that it's a good idea for you to bring another one home?" 

"She's really nice! And injured. Nobody seems to be looking for her, and I need to pick up dog food but I can't in my suit."

There was a pause. Ned sighed again. "Where are you?"

"Across the street." 

Peter saw Ned's window open and a ring of keys came flying out. Grinning, he caught them with a web.

"There's spare clothes in my trunk, too." Ned offered. "They'll probably be huge on you, but you can use them if you want."

"Thanks, man. I owe you one." 

Ned hummed. "See you later. Let me get back to Game of Thrones." 

Peter chuckled. "Bye."

"Bye." The click on the other end told Peter that Ned had hung up.

 

Peter found a sweatshirt and sweatpants in the trunk. They were really baggy, but they would serve the purpose that he needed for tonight. 

He stopped at Foodtown of Forest Hills, a supermarket near his apartment. The employees gave him dirty looks for cutting it so close to closing time, so he quickly picked out a bag of dog food and two dishes. When he got up to the checkout, the woman gave him such weird looks that he chuckled nervously and plucked at his shirt. 

"Uh, I had to borrow a friend's clothes." She shrugged, but for some reason felt he should keep going. "Yeah, um, my clothes got all… ripped up. From a stray dog. We were trying to catch it and it got angry. So we're buying food for it. It's nice, now, though." He cleared his throat awkwardly. "In case you were wondering. Which you weren't. But," he cleared his throat again, "you got the full story, ha-ha."

She simply gave a weird, 'I just want you to shut up already' smile. So he did, with great effort. "That'll be twenty-nine dollars and twenty-three cents." She took Peter's cash and nodded. "Change is seventy-seven cents, here's your receipt. Thank you for shopping at Foodtown, enjoy the rest of your night."

Peter nodded and thanked her, grabbing the bowls and heavy bag of food with ease. There was a time when spending nearly thirty dollars in one place would've blown his brains out, but Tony had an embarrassing habit of losing his twenty and fifty dollar bills directly into Peter's wallet. It baffled Peter because Tony hadn't carried cash since his favorite coffee shop started taking credit cards. Strange. Not only that, but May constantly found 100-dollar bills in the couch. Peter wanted to be on BuzzFeed Unsolved, but May didn't think this particular mystery warranted a spot on the show.

The dog barked when he opened the door. "Hi, trash dog," he greeted. She wagged her tail. "I'd think of a name for you, but I'm probably not going to be able to keep you," he said sadly. 

"Boof," she agreed, her ears and tail drooping as if to match Peter's mood. He noticed this, and not wanting to make her sad, tried to perk up.

"But it's okay!" He exclaimed in a fake happy, falsetto voice. "We'll find you a home!" She perked up and cocked her head. "Yes, with some kids, preferably, and you will be happy!"

Her massive tail thumped against the seat. Peter laughed. "Let's get you home."

Shame, Peter thought. I have the perfect name for you.

 

One thing Peter did not think through was how he was going to tell May that he found a dog. When he'd gotten home that night, she was asleep so Peter gave the ever so patient dog a bath and dressed her wounds. They both crashed on Peter's bed at around 2am after an episode of Parks and Rec.

The next morning, May pushed open her nephew's door to check on him before going to work, and was greeted by a Newfoundland jumping off his bed and coming over to lick her hands.

"What the f-"


	2. The Ones We Rescue, Rescue Us

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The dog that Peter found has much more of a purpose than originally thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Second chapter! Thanks to everyone who left kudos and comments on the first. (Also one of my favorite writers on here left kudos so I'm kind of freaking out haha, if you're seeing this aceshwarz222 I love you haha)  
> So this takes place in an AU where the Avengers manage to reverse the snap soon after it happens, within a few days to months. Nobody dies. I hope you like it!

Peter hung up the phone with a sigh. "Any luck with you?"

Ned shook his head. "The last one had someone looking for a Newfoundland. Got my hopes up for a second until they mentioned that their missing dog was male."

Peter banged his head on the table. "Karen, how many more shelters?"

"That was the last one in New York City. Would you like to continue the search past the city?"

"No, but keep searching the internet for mentions of her." The dog rested her head on Peter's lap and he stroked her head while she drooled on his pants. Ned came over as soon as he was up and they had been calling shelters all morning in hopes of finding the owners of the dog Peter found on patrol. So far they'd called almost every shelter on the map, including Long Beach Humane Society Kitty Cove, but they were all dead ends. (The last one was an expected dead end, but you can never be too careful.)

Ned rubbed his eyes. "Do you want to take a break and go to the dog park or something?"

"You wanna run around with your doggy friends, Ned? Pee on a tree?" Peter teased.

"Hey," Ned sniffed, feigning hurt. "I miss my friends, okay? I haven't seen them in a long time.” 

Peter laughed. "Well, we can't bring our new friend. There's rules at a dog park, and we don't even know if she's spayed or how well she's trained. We don't even know how she behaves around other dogs."

"Alright, alright," Ned relented. "But I still miss my friends."

Peter chuckled. "I'm starving, do you want anything?" Ned shook his head.

May would never admit it, but she was extremely grateful for Tony's tendency to leave money lying around. Raising Peter had been hard enough by herself, but when he got his powers, his enhanced metabolism nearly ate them out of house and home. (May had to buy many things in bulk. How he ate almost a full box of Frosted Mini Wheats a day was beside her.)

When Peter returned to the dining room table with his nachos, microwave corn dog, and Gatorade, Ned was watching Netflix on his phone. He turned it off when Peter sat down. "So what are you going to do?"

"Hmm?" Peter said with a mouthful of chips and cheese.

"About the dog. Are you going to keep her?" Ned clarified, taking a chip from Peter's plate.

"No… I don't think this building allows dogs. And May would die if we had to feed this beast." Peter whistled and the beast in question trotted over to him. "Oh, look at that. She comes when you call. Are you trained, girly? Yes you are! You're a trained trash dog! What a good trash dog you are, aren't you!" He cooed at her while rubbing her ears. She barked and licked his face.

Ned, watching in amusement, cleared his throat. "Well, you seem pretty attached to her already." 

"What! No," Peter denied. "I'm just giving her love."

"What'd you name her?"

"I haven't named her!" He said indignantly. Ned gave him a disbelieving look. "I didn’t! Seriously— ”

Peter's phone rang loudly, causing them both to jump. “Oh shoot, gotta take this, sorry,” he said, absolutely not sorry. He picked up the phone without checking who it was and gave a small start. “Oh, hey Tony. What do you need?"

It wasn't that Tony didn't talk to Peter ever, but the man was so busy that a quick text was usually the way they communicated. And they saw each other every Tuesday and Thursday (sometimes Sunday) and talked then, so a phone call was a rarity.

"I need your suit, Pete." His eye roll could practically be heard through the phone.

"W-what?" Peter's mind flashed back to when Tony took his suit and he had to fight Vulture in a hoodie and sweatpants. He had no desire to relive that experience.

"You were going to come to the lab today so we can update your suit real fast since I have the full day tomorrow booked. Did you forget?" Tony asked.

Peter cursed. "No, I didn't forget. Just got distracted."

"Distracted?"

"Yeah! She's really cute. I'll tell you about her when I get there."

"Oh, a her? Do you need to stay?" Tony hinted, a suggesting smile creeping into his voice.

"No," Peter dismissed, oblivious to Tony's train of thought, once again distracted by the dog. "Ned will stay here for a bit and watch her." 

"Um— " Tony started, but Peter cut him off without realizing. "I've gotta get in the shower. I'll be over by noon."

"Alright," Tony replied slowly, still confused. 

"See you then!" Peter ended the call and bounced up to Ned. "I've gotta go to the lab, will you watch M— uh, the dog?"

"What were you about to say, Pete?" Ned leaned back, eyebrows raised.

"Hm?" Peter pretended not to understand, inching around the corner. "What d'you mean?"

"Before you said 'the dog,' what were you going to say?"

"I can't hear you!" Peter said, shutting the bathroom door and muffling his voice.

"Tell me, Peter!" 

A series of incomprehensible noises sounded from the bathroom followed by the shower starting, drowning out anything Peter might say. Ned grumbled and scrolled through his phone. 

The dog sat by the bathroom door and scratched at it and whined. Ned tried to call her over. Her head turned momentarily, but otherwise she ignored him.

"C'mere, girl!" He whistled again. This time there was no acknowledgement of him, but she barked at the door. It opened to accommodate her and she disappeared inside. 

Ned rolled his eyes. They'd only known each other for a day, but Peter was better friends with that dog than any human. It would break both of their hearts when Peter had to give her up.

 

* * *

 

Peter swung into Tony's lab at noon. There was spare clothes in the desk drawer that Peter left there for when he came after a patrol. He pulled on the "I survived my trip to Stark Industries" t-shirt and jeans over his suit. The nanites crawled smoothly back into his web shooters, and he set them on Tony's desk, who was nowhere to be seen.

"FRIDAY, where's Tony?" He asked, pulling out the plans for the update and studying them. 

"Mr. Stark is currently on a very boring phone call with a person he does not like. Considering his previous behavioral patterns he will hang up at anytime in the next minute. I have alerted him that you have arrived."

Peter chuckled. He enjoyed watching Tony be sassy to people he didn't like. His favorite was when General Ross called Tony and he put him on hold, or tried to break his record on how long it took to call him back.

Sure enough, the door to the lab opened within a minute and Tony walked in, groaning loudly. He put a hand on Peter's shoulder. "Never own a company, kid. It's exhausting."

Peter laughed. "Wasn't planning on it," he assured his mentor. Tony sat down with a final groan and grabbed Peter's web shooters. "Good," he grumbled. Peter's face held a grin and they worked quietly for a minute until Tony broke the silence.

"So, who's the girl?" Peter hummed in inquiry, his tongue poking out in concentration to his task. "The girl you were talking about. That distracted you." Tony clarified, and Peter laughed again when he realized what Tony thought was going on.

"It's not a girl, Tony," he corrected.

"A boy?" Tony revised, his confusion growing when Peter snickered. 

"It's a dog," Peter said simply. "I found a huge Newfoundland yesterday during patrol. Ned and I spent all morning calling shelters to see if anyone is looking for her, but so far no luck."

Tony spun his chair to face Peter and the teen followed suit. "You spent… you know Karen can do that for you, right?"

"What?!" Tony nodded.

"Just tell her what you want to know and she'll call them and ask. She can mass call, too, so she'll do dozens in the time it takes to do one." Tony's favorite expression to see on people's faces is the "I just wasted hours doing something a robot could've done in seconds." It'd happened a surprising amount of times in Tony's career. Never got old.

"Well, we did it, so… yeah," Peter muttered.

Tony laughed but urged him on. "So what are you going to do about the dog? Keep it?" Peter looked at his hands sadly.

"Probably not. I don't think our building allows dogs… and it's a huge dog. Took up most of my bed last night. It'd be like feeding a whole other child, and she'd have to go to the vet, and go on walks, and uh, poop." He took a deep breath. “So no, um, she'll probably… go up for adoption. Yeah." He blinked rapidly, and turned back to his laptop in an attempt to hide the tears pricking his eyes. But Tony noticed.

He was already coming up with a plan.

 

* * *

 

Peter left an hour later with his upgraded suit and finished science project, planning to patrol for an hour or two. Tony went to work immediately.

"FRIDAY, text May Parker and tell her to call me as soon as possible. Find out who Peter's landlord is and get me on the phone with him. Do I have Peter's friend Ted's number?"

"If you mean Ned" —Tony waved that off — "then yes, you do have his number. The landlord of Peter and May's building is Barry McClain. Would you like me to call him immediately?"

"Yes.” Two phone calls, two excited fans, a promise to pay a $250 pet fee, the information that Peter’d named the dog, and a plea to go to a landlord’s son’s school fundraiser (that he’d declined) later, Tony had nearly everything he needed.

FRIDAY informed him that May’s break was in fifteen minutes. The last piece of the plan he’d devised rode completely on his intern’s aunt who didn’t like him very much. The odds were not very much in favor of him winning this, but he had to. It was for Peter. And if Tony knew one thing about May, it was that she cared about Peter more than anything in the world. They had that in common.

Tony pulled up the security feed from the night before. “Scan the footage. Tell me everything that Peter calls the dog.” 

“Peter calls the dog ‘girly,’ ‘doggy,’ ‘trash dog,’ ‘cutest thing ever,’ ‘fluffy monster,’ ‘bad b—’”

“Yeah, is there anything that’s not an adjective?” Peter had an endless vocabulary, especially when it comes to adorable dogs, and Tony felt he would be there a while if FRIDAY listed every descriptive word that could remotely apply to his new dog.

“Peter called her ‘Millie’ after waking up due to a nightmare.” 

Tony shot straight up. Peter had nightmares? Why didn’t he tell May? Or him? Worse, why didn’t Tony think to ask him? No wonder the kid was so tired all the time. The nightmares combined with his alter ego, not to mention the stress of graduating this year, must be taking a toll on Peter’s health. And Tony didn’t even know. Didn’t guess, even though the kid had _died_. He’d died in Tony’s arms, turned to dust. If Tony got nightmares about that day, why shouldn’t Peter? Tony was supposed to be one of the smartest people in history, and he couldn’t even figure out when one of the people closest to him was struggling. Tony felt so guilty and angry at himself that his heart physically ached.

“How often does he wake up because of a nightmare?”

“About twice a night, and he usually gets up after the second.”

Tony knew exactly how it was not being able to just _rest_ properly. All you want is a good night’s sleep. He knew the pain… the sleepless nights. And he didn’t want Peter- who he thought of as a son!- to go through what he did after Afghanistan, after the wormhole. Just thinking the word made him shudder. Tony cursed profusely. This was bad. This was really, really bad. He rubbed his forehead and swore again. “The kid… pull up the footage of him waking from the nightmare, FRI.”

He didn’t know why he wanted to see it.

The video was hard to watch. Tony looked at Peter thrashing in his bed and was reminded of himself, after New York. He’d almost hurt Pepper after subconsciously calling a suit in his sleep, and the littlest thing would send him into an attack.

Did Peter have attacks? Why did Tony never notice?

Tony's head swam and he put his face in his hands. Everything about this was awful. He looked up noticed Millie for the first time. 

She'd been sleeping on the floor next to Peter's bed, but now, her huge form rested on Peter, and he'd stopped thrashing and woken up. "Thanks, Millie," he muttered deliriously, and went back to sleep.

The billionaire's gears started turning. He leaned forward. "Replay the video, and pull up the kid's vitals alongside the video."

This time, Tony studied the dog while monitoring Peter's vitals. Before the visual evidence of his nightmare came to show, Millie was sitting up, alert, aware of what was going on in Peter's brain. She was anxious, pacing back and forth, and after Peter started to thrash around, she jumped on his bed and gently eased herself onto his chest. His breathing and heart rate slowed, and after waking briefly to thank Millie, he slept soundly for the rest of the night.

This dog, that Peter found behind a trash bin, had been the only thing that could help him.

Before, Millie had been a want, a wish even- Tony _wanted_ Peter to have this dog. Peter _wished_ he could keep her. But now she's a _need_ . Tony _needs_ Peter to have the dog. And Peter _needs_ her- he does. Somehow, Tony knew that.

And that's what he told May.

"So, May, I know I'm not your favorite person. And I know you think I'm a bad influence on Peter. But this dog? Millie? She's the best thing that could happen to this boy right now. He needs her. And you know it."

Tony waited with baited breath. He'd never talked so sincerely to anyone except Pepper. And he hoped that May sensed that. Because everything was riding on her saying yes. 

"You know I can't pay the vet bills and food costs."

"Covered," Tony assured her, his heart racing with the possibility of this all working out.

She sighed. "I… okay. Alright. He can keep her."

Tony’s heart did the biggest victory dance of its life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I know this one didn’t have much of Millie in it but there will be more of her in the future!   
> Sorry this was so short and awful lol. Others will be better. Next chapter will be from Millie’s perspective, I’m 85% sure...  
> That's it for the introductory work! I will be posting more on this series. If you have any suggestions or prompts then send them to my tumblr, milesmorales-is-my-son. Or if you don't have tumblr, comment! I am always looking for new ideas!

**Author's Note:**

> I love the idea of Peter having a gigantic dog.  
> (Yes, I realize it's unrealistic that such a huge dog was hiding behind the trash bin, but the breed changed on me in the middle of the scene. The story guides the writer rather than the other way around.)  
> And don't worry, everything will work out. I have the perfect name for the dog and it literally killed me every time I had to write "the dog" instead of her name or Peter said "girly" or "doggy." She has a name in my mind and Peter's, but we can't officially name her yet! I'm literally dying.  
> And if you're wondering how Karen knew all the stuff about the dog, when Peter picked her up, Karen got a read on all that (weight, age, etc)


End file.
